Happenstance
by walkthatlonesomevalley
Summary: I've often wondered what was going on inside of Teresa Hill's mind upon first meeting Betty McRae and becoming a part of the VicMu life. This story kind of goes over my thoughts on what Teresa could've been thinking and feeling during her first few days at the factory.


**Happenstance**

******Part 1**

When Teresa arrived at VicMu she was expecting a quick in-and-out. No fuss, no muss, just another opportunity to meet a few good people and help aid the war effort. At this point in her tour, she was more than accustomed to the grind. The simplicity of the situation was almost beautiful. She had been to other factories like this and attended other events, they were all painfully similar but she was happy to do it, and everything about it was positive. After a while, it had seemed almost like she was just the gal for the job. Other specialists might find it tiring but Teresa finds it stimulating. The only draw back to the job is the intense and growing loneliness that undoubtedly comes with traveling all by your lonesome.

No one traveled with her, you see. She would get her assignment and be shuttled out to location, alone. She never rode with the same soldiers twice. Never bunked in the same place for more than two weeks. And then there was the stickiness of her home life. Vacations were so rare that her family had all but given up on dropping their lives when and if her long awaited time-off actually came. She was far from new to the game. By now, she was in the full swing of things. There was no time to stop and catch her breathe. No time to think about a life like these factory girls have. A life that allows the luxury of friends, and romances, and families… Well, to be truthful, there usually wasn't time. Somehow, today, Teresa was finding more than enough time to think about such things. More time than she would like. And strangely, more time than usual. What was it about this factory that just made her job seem easy?

She tried to banish the thoughts from her mind. Busied herself with polishing the look of her small corner of the factory. Then her heart stopped, it shuddered. A beautiful blonde woman was walking towards her, asking her questions, and it was all she could do just to pretend to be this perfect picture of female strength and wellness. Inside she was melting. Who was this blonde woman? And why were her eyes so perfectly hazel? How did she get her body to look so feminine in that unbecoming white jumpsuit? And why was she here, what part did she have to play in this war? She couldn't just be one of the many girls who work at VicMu… Could she?

Teresa decided that this girl, Betty, must be just that. Just another girl at VicMu, another girl in another factory, on yet another almost anonymous assembly line. Given her current state, and the amount of time she had spent silently wallowing, she tried not to think about Betty. But then someone else walked over. The blonde's friend, Gladys. She walked over to them suddenly and started talking about the propaganda soldier, Gene, and the prize to be had, DeeDeeBurke, it was all too much to ignore. These women had a unique friendship that was instantly recognizable to anyone who could manage to eavesdrop.

Teresa was almost star-struck by these two women. Was Betty flirting with her friend Gladys? No, couldn't be. Teresa shifted her eyes, allowing the two women to talk in peace. They obviously had some kind of history. They were good friends and that was a certainty. The way Gladys took her coveralls down at lunch time and breaks, Teresa could tell that she was feminine at all times. A girl like Gladys probably hated to dress so similar to everyone else, in a colorless drab coverall, that kept her anonymous despite her face and hair. She wasn't like Betty, and Teresa could feel that from across the room, before Betty even noticed her in the corner. From the way Betty leapt to help her, Teresa could tell that Betty was the kind of girl who barely noticed when it was break and when it was work time. Betty didn't rush to strip herself of her coveralls or attempt to rid herself of her turban. Gladys was different and Teresa could tell that from the look of her clothes, the way she made-up her face, and the strong but intoxicating perfume that wafted its way to her senses, though she may never have asked to have smelt her so intimately. Teresa was shaken by her. How could she not find Gladys Witham beautiful?

Before Teresa knew what was happening she had talked to the hard-working daughter of a local businessman in Toronto. She found herself dumbfounded by this woman. Gladys had donated a surprising amount of money. Beautiful and rich, and working for Victory Munitions? All of this puzzled Teresa. How did a girl like Gladys come to work at a bomb factory? What had she done to be given this punishment? That's what it must be, a punishment. Gladys Witham could be playing any role she wanted. She could be the soldier or the bond agent or the woman singing in the show tonight. The way Teresa saw it, Gladys could be another DeeDeeBurke if she wanted to be. She had the brains and by-God the beauty. Money was just an added perk. So how did she end up in a factory like VicMu and how did a person like Betty become one of her good friends? A person who was obviously working for her life and intuitive about struggle, Betty was a different breed, a girl like Teresa, a girl who puts her wants last in most areas of her life.

A person like Betty… Teresa mused at her own unspoken phrasings. After setting up the adverts and piecing together the Bond Booth, she allowed herself a moment of rest at an empty table in the VicMu dining hall. A warm cup of coffee and a heavy dose of thinking. Her thoughts were all about Betty, and Gladys, by default. The two women had taken her by storm, like a gust of wind encircles a sleeping tree, they had flown in unannounced and ruffled her leaves, spread music through her branches, and touching her greatly. Their private conversation had somehow included her. Or perhaps they were just treating her like wall paper, ignoring the fact that she was even there? No, that can't be right. Betty returned Teresa's glances and Gladys had a quip for every trained line that Teresa mechanically threw at her. The girls were including her, making her feel more than welcome. Perhaps they knew her secret. Or perhaps they knew she was lonely.

That was some heavy eye contact. And the way Betty spoke. What was it that she said… Oh yes. "We're all go-getters." She was adorable. Teresa could not stop thinking about her. Even though Betty was the one who looked strong and determined, and Gladys was the one who looked beautiful and smelled of flowers, Teresa couldn't help but feel an intimacy with Betty. For some reason she felt that they could help each other. She wished only to spend more time with her. But time was her biggest problem. She set aside almost none for herself. How could she accommodate her wants when her stay at VicMu is destined to end with a few passing sunsets on the water. In a number of days, her stay in Toronto will be over.

**Part 2**

Days went by. The fundraiser came to an end. Teresa felt herself slowly slipping away from this place and these people. Her rules all along were never to get attached. There was an affable quality to her, she was instantly liked by others but always seen as a bit of a stranger. Teresa both loved and hated herself for being able to forget things.

The other night in the bar, she had tried her hardest, put herself out there and went for what she really wanted. Betty had followed one of her girlfriend's to a local haunt, and Teresa just so happened to be there. They sat together briefly, feeling an awkward closeness. Teresa decided that her thoughts were not a burden, and she made it known to Betty how interested she actually was in the idea of a fling with her.

Her hints affected Betty in the exact opposite way in which she had wished them to affect her. At first they were subtle. Teresa wanted Betty to feel a sense of camaraderie and safety. She wanted Betty to know that she could feel in her bones that Betty was like her. But Betty wasn't having it. Betty was acting contrary. When Teresa tried to joke or appease, Betty flew away from her, embarrassed, or possibly unnerved. But then this morning Betty came back, almost as if what had happened last night had somehow been an accident. Perhaps Betty had been downtrodden. Perhaps her mood was the cause of her abrupt departure. Teresa couldn't figure it out.

On this lonely evening, Teresa felt at peace with what had happened. She had a crush, that was all. Not all women can be attracted to you, she told herself. Alone in her booth, she sat in peace, not wanting to think about anything anymore. With the performance going on, traffic had slowed considerable, leaving her to her thoughts. She was actually looking forward to being shipped away yet again. The spell that Betty had on her was gaining strength and being around Betty for just a few more days could leave some irreparable damage.

Betty's friend was singing now. From far away from the stage she could not really see her beauty, but the woman's voice flooded over her like water, washing her in it's loveliness. No wonder Betty couldn't get over it, Teresa thought.

Jolted, Teresa sat up from her reclining position in the uncomfortable chair inside her booth.

"She's good, isn't she?"

"A nightingale." Of all people, Betty was the one Teresa wanted to see least in the world. She was trying to distance herself since their talk this morning. The talk where they both acknowledged that they were given a blessing by the war. The talk where Teresa felt like an absolute cad for hitting on a girl like Betty, a girl who was obviously still in love with someone else. Teresa was definitely frazzled, but she tried to play it cool.  
A nightingale, Betty thought. Even a stranger can fall for her, like I ever had a chance.

"What's wrong?" Teresa asked. Betty had gone inward, the look on her face was puzzling, like she had just gotten some horrible news.

"Ah. It's nothing. It's hard to get over someone when they're all around you, is all." Teresa breathed a deep deep breath. Perhaps her and Betty were having the same little problem.

"I know the feeling," Teresa said, almost winking her eyes and smiling a sweet smile that Betty was beginning to adore.

"Why do you talk to me?" Blurted Betty, out of nowhere.

"Excuse me?" Teresa said, amused.

"No, well. What I meant to say is… How… How could you tell, that I was.. well. That I was. Like. You." Betty's eyes shut tightly when she said this, it was like she was almost too embarrassed to say these things to herself. Teresa stood up and walked around the booth so that she could stand next to her new friend and relate a rather private confession.

"You want to know the truth?" Teresa asked, her arms folded in front of her, Betty fidgeting besides her. Betty nodded, eager for an answer.

"I didn't really. It was your face." Betty furrowed her brows.

"My face?" Betty said, surprised. She looked up at Teresa with a confused expression.

"The way you react to things. That's all I had to go on… When you helped me in the factory, and the way you talked to your friend that day. And when I looked at you, you didn't look away. It was like you wanted to see me as much as I wanted to see you…" Teresa took a sad little sigh. She couldn't help but look down at her feet, she would very much like for Betty to feel the same way about her. She cheered up again, "Well, all that and… I liked you." Betty blushed and fidgeted even more.

"Th-that that can't be true."

"Which part?" Teresa smiled, still standing strong in her place. Teresa was looking over at Betty with a look that suggested that defiance was nowhere within her character. Betty looked back at her almost astounded by what she had just learned.

Before the two could have any sort of a moment the song in the show had ended and people were getting up from their seats, rushing over to the bond booth. Teresa rushed back to her spot and screwed her hat atop her head, giving a wink to the flattered and very startled Betty McRae who still had not budged from the place where she was standing.

"Lovely afternoon isn't it!" Teresa greeted the first person to approach the booth. Betty looked on at her, still trying to comprehend what she had heard. Then she looked away, shaking her head, before turning to Teresa again. Was Teresa just trying to date her? Betty was so very confused, she had never had an interaction like this one before. It was enough to make her go mad. She turned to Teresa, determined to see this out.

"You're free after this, right?!"

"Sure am!" Teresa stated, not looking at Betty but instead smiling at the person who was trying to make a donation. The woman was fussing internally about the amount she should give and Teresa knew that words were never really a help for that.

"Fine! I'll wait for you." Betty shouted, as if Teresa had asked her to wait. Teresa had not asked her to wait, which made this situation all the more enjoyable. She watched as Betty stalked off towards the factory. And she felt the smile on her face as it stretched wider than it had gone in weeks, until her face could no longer express the amount of joy she was actually feeling. The person looking down at her had no choice but to smile back, it was just that infectious. Tears escaped her eyes, Betty's words had been such a surprise that tears of joy flooded out of her, and she wiped at them smiling.

"You ok dear?"

"Yes!" Teresa laughed, covering the woman's hand and laughing. "Yes… that woman, she just told me the most wonderful story. The kind of thing you have to hear to believe."

"For heaven's sake!" The woman exclaimed, "A story like that! You'll have to tell it to the world!" The woman smiled and waved a fist in the air, before turning around and walking off back into the crowd without so much as an inquiry.

"I will!" Teresa shouted after her, standing up from her chair, still wiping the happy tears from her eyes. "I promise!"

Before she knew what was happening, Teresa had secured a date with the adorable Betty McRae. A bomb factory girl with a heart of gold, in a big city filled with women, a city that was rough and cold. The more Teresa thought about it, the happier she became. What exactly were the odds of this encounter. She didn't care anymore. Every second seemed painful leading up to the end of her shift. For the first time in her life she was actually hoping that no one was interested in giving money to the war effort.

When the sun finally set and the last of the crowd tapered off. Just Betty was left, leaning her back on the stage, and staring directly in her direction, waiting patiently for her to be free. Teresa's heart thumped at the look of her. Everything about her was breathtaking. She was feminine and strong, slim and vivacious, Teresa hoped against all hopes that she could keep her racing thoughts in. With the distance between them, Teresa could almost feel Betty getting nervous as well. Betty had been watching her like a hawk, ignoring her friends who came and went almost constantly.

When the time had finally come and the last of the people had left the factory. Betty walked over and helped Teresa with the clean-up. Her hands shook when she lifted the poster of Gene off of it's stand, and Teresa caught her from behind, helping her to lower the print.

"You don't have to help, you know."

"I know." Betty said. Teresa was still holding her hands and it was hard for Betty to speak without saying embarrassing things that could chase Teresa away forever. Sensing this tension, Teresa let go of Betty's hands and backed away from her body slowly, in hopes that she hadn't disturbed her with too much too fast. For a brief second she had been holding her and it felt so very right that it hurt. "Come on soldier, I'll show you my room." Betty said, turning to her with a gentle smile. Teresa smiled back. She somehow wanted to cry again but this time, for different reasons. She packed up her booth and allowed Betty to lead her off into the night. Neither of them were really prepared for what was about to take place… But neither of them really cared about all that.


End file.
